three unknown bands called Franz Ferdinand, Bloc Party and Razorlight were all emerging from Britain’s toilet circuit armed with spiky guitar riffs, driving rhythm sections and acerbic lyrical observations on modern life. They were Gang of Four meets Blur – in short, bottled success.

Each one timed its ascent to perfection and now fills arenas every time they step out on tour. Inevitably after this, labels grabbed every indie four-piece stood on a street corner in a hope of catching this particular bandwagon. But, as it turned out, acts like the now defunct Rakes, the ignored Young Knives and tonight’s headliner Good Shoes, fared less well in the market place.

Still, even though the Morden quartet are still touring in venues where you have to do your own soundcheck, they attract a decent crowd to the tavern.

Mixing fan favourites from debut record Think Before You Speak with the poppier cuts from the gloomily titled No Hope, No Future, the band rattle through 50 credible minutes. They open with a new track, which has a spacey, almost psychedelic intro; seconds later, though, a riff that could have been written on cheese wire kicks in and we’re back in familiar territory.

Despite promises of more darkness from the new material, it’s quickly apparent that there’s little difference between what the band offered then and what they offer now. Naturally though, it’s early singles like All In My Head and the closer Morden which draw the biggest cheers of the night, but fans should have no problem whatsoever in embracing the new stuff.

As the set progresses and the songs merge into one another, you can’t help but wonder whether Good Shoes have consciously decided that they’ve got a good thing going here and need to keep the fans they have happy. As it is, Good Shoes are fine, just fine, but, if they keep churning out what they do now, then that’s all they’ll ever be.